


Breakfast

by skytramp



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 19:10:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/skytramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furuhashi woke to the sound of the blender on a Tuesday morning. Technically, he lived alone. Technically meaning that despite the fact that no one besides him and his landlord have a key to his apartment, Hara keeps finding ways to get in. And even before Furuhashi can throw on a shirt and run into his kitchen, he knows who he’ll find there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast

Furuhashi woke to the sound of the blender on a Tuesday morning. It took him a good three minutes of the pulsing start and stop grinding sound to figure out what the hell that sound was, before he jolted out of bed.

Technically, he lived alone. Technically meaning that despite the fact that no one besides him and his landlord have a key to his apartment, Hara keeps finding ways to get in. And even before Furuhashi can throw on a shirt and run into his kitchen, he knows who he’ll find there.

Hara looks up from the blender when Furuhashi walks in. It looks like he says “Sup?” but his voice is drowned out by the god awful grinding sounds coming from the small appliance.

“What is that?” Furuhashi asks, when the sound stops momentarily. But Hara pushes the button to start it again before answering. 

He does answer, but no amount of mediocre lip reading can make Furuhashi understand what he was trying to say. Before allowing himself to get roped into the inevitable “What?” battle to come, he moved to the counter and unplugged the blender. 

“Hey, man! I was making you breakfast!” Hara whined, and Furuhashi is momentarily stunned by how genuinely sweet he sounded. The feeling is gone when he peeks inside the blender to see an assortment of meats, and what looks to be at least 4 eggs, complete with shells, floating in the colorless muck. 

“No one is eating that shit, Hara, not even you.” Furuhashi takes the blender, separates the container from the base and dumps the contents summarily into the garbage. When Furuhashi looks back at him he sees his shoulders slumped and, if he could see his eyes, they might even look sad. 

“Just go sit down, _I’ll_ make us breakfast, you idiot.” Hara slumped into a chair at the small dining table, but there was a surprisingly happy quirk at the edge of his mouth that suggested he wasn’t as disappointed as he could have been. 

Furuhashi dug through his fridge, pulling out what he would need to make an actually edible meal. 

“You know, it’s Tuesday.”

“Yeah, so?” Hara popped his gum.

“You know I have classes on Tuesday.” 

“Yeah.” He popped his gum again, allowing the bubble to cover most of his face. “You have a test today.”

Furuhashi’s hands stopped moving and he looked up at Hara. 

“You were making me breakfast for my test?” His voice was small when he replied, he didn’t continue pulling out ingredients.

“Yeah.”

“You idiot.” Furuhashi replied, with entirely too much fondness, as he crossed around the counter to plant a kiss on the top of Hara’s head. 

They stood in silence for a few seconds, Furuhashi’s hands on Hara’s shoulders as he sat at the table. 

“So what’re you making me?” Hara asked.

“Something a hell of a lot more edible than you tried to make me.”

“Sick.”

Furuhashi rolled his eyes and continued making breakfast. 

More or less their mornings went like this. Unnaturally early wake up by a Hara who usually hadn’t slept yet, Furuhashi making them breakfast, Hara staring pointedly at the row of plants on the window sill, not sure if he was more fascinated or jealous. 

When Furuhashi had to leave for school Hara was still there, sprawled on his couch, munching on something that looked to be a bag of chips Furuhashi had been saving. 

He waved and called out a goodbye before shutting the door and heading to class.

Two hours later, just minutes before his midterm was about to start he got a text message.

_[I’ll make you dinner. It’ll be better, I promise.]_

Furuhashi knew that was the closest Hara would say to _good luck_ and he smiled to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> fluff trash 2k15


End file.
